Kothapallilo Okappudu Review

Among the already rarefied group of independent Telugu filmmakers, Praveena Paruchuri is singular, not just for being a woman in an overwhelmingly male-dominated industry, but also an Indian-American with a penchant for telling local stories. It's a strikingly unique combination, all the more so because it has given rise to some of recent Telugu cinema's most rooted and rural films, including C/o Kancharapalem and Uma Maheswara Ugra Roopasya, both of which she produced.

Kotthapallilo Okappudu finds Paruchuri back in a rustic setting, this time in the director's chair, herding an eclectic cast of characters in a loosely-scripted film that explores the nuances of the so-called blind superstitions we often attribute to village life. Characters run the gamut, from the pitiless, predatory moneylender Appayya (Ravindra Vijay) to the village zamindari elder Reddy, who bristles at Appayya's rise and his own shrinking influence. Caught between them is Ramakrishna (Manoj Chandra), Appayya's beloved rascal of a right-hand man, who has fallen in love with the out-of-his-league Savitri (Monika T), Reddy's granddaughter. An unfortunate encounter and an untimely death in the village upturn Ramakrishna's fate and tie it to Adhilakshmi (Usha Bonela), or "Andham", the spunky, dark-skinned maid working in Reddy's house.

Kotthapallilo Okappudu knowingly plays into the tropes of the "rooted" village film only to highlight our innate biases in its final act. We get the eccentricities we've come to expect - a policeman who moonlights as a priest, a crossdressing male dancer performing a recording dance, a couple caught at a rendezvous at the "gaddi vaamu" (the haystack, a notorious village motif where naughty things occur) - but ultimately, the story claps back at portrayals of villagers as a superstitious, ignorant lot in need of enlightenment.

Worthy as its themes are, the story loafs around a good deal before sitting up straight for the third act and spouting forth its message in extended monologues. For a while, it is about Ramakrishna's unrequited love for Savitri, which Andham cleverly turns to her advantage. Easily the story's most delightfully unpredictable character, Andham is also perhaps the most perceptive representation of a village girl on screen, someone who may appear innocent but is really savvy, street-smart, and capable of running circles around the so-called educated folks. Newcomer Usha Bonela commandeers Andham to instant icon status, completely confident in her skin and utterly captivating on screen. Compared to her, Savitri, played by an equally self-assured Monika T, feels like an underwritten, doe-eyed heroine, and consequently, the romance track by Mani Sharma between Ramakrishna and Savitri is a boring interruption.

Paruchuri's direction is uneven, and so is Petros Antoniadis's camera, which captures the warm, soft tones of village life but is at times unfocused and blurry. You can see the unsteadiness in the choreography of certain scenes, almost as though you could hear instructions being shouted to the actors. But occasionally, a scene lands with such assuredness that it's clear Paruchuri knows exactly what she's after. Take, for instance, a scene midway through the film, like many others, designed primarily to showcase some especially ludicrous aspect of life in Kotthapalli. Ramakrishna and Andham's families are squabbling at Reddy's house over an alleged tryst at the haystack. Words turn into fisticuffs, and the chaos that ensues becomes a fine piece of physical comedy, with Paruchuri, who also plays Ramakrishna's aunt, lunging into a wrestling match with Andham's foul-mouthed mother.

Newcomer Manoj Chandra is a marvelous find, with the solidly built physique of a big rogue and the goofy smile of a lover. He may seem a little out of place at first, with his groomed looks, but he nails the drawling village accent - his voice and cadence feel fully embedded in the setting. Veteran actor Banerjee is the film's anchoring point, playing the irascible zamindar who grows increasingly frustrated by the changing power dynamics in the village.

Kotthapallilo... tries to talk through a lot, in the way Reddy puts on his watch and nicest shirt when he hears Appayya is dropping by, and in the way Andham serves food for Savitri, delicately navigating the dual role of best friend and maid in the same household. These small, telling moments hint at a complex social hierarchy and emotional texture. But the central crux of the film, which questions how belief systems shape our choices and hierarchies, doesn't come together in the most satisfying way. Instead, it veers into something didactic, losing its grip on nuance just when it needs it most.